Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head
by Beewritestuff
Summary: Because Horo is always right. Always. No exceptions.


Disclaimer- I do not own Spice and Wolf.

* * *

"I belive," Horo intoned from her bunk, tail swishing on the floor, "that it is going to rain today."

Lawrence, peeked out at the clear blue sky through their rooms window and glanced back at the half naked girl who's face was still covered in powdered sugar from a pasty he'd tempted her with last night. "I belive," he replied, bowing mockingly at the girl, "that the apple cider you inhaled was rather fermented and that your judgement is thus impaired."

She frowned at him, her red eyes serious. "I have many years on you, boy" snipped she, barring pointing canines in a growl. "Do not snub my warnings as mere prattle."

He arched an eyebrow at her, unshaken by her rare display of irritation. "Aged crone or not, I, however, am sober. I doubt you can walk in a straight line." He turned on heel with an unshakable firmness that this discussion was over. "I'll be waiting for you at the cart, m'dear" he shouted over his shoulder, leaving their room quickly and quietly.

"I can to walk straight" Horo replied to his dismissal sulkily. She frowned at the nightstand, as if this was all it's fault. "Watch." Pretty face scrunched with wearyness and temper she staggered to her feet and promply collapsed on the bed, head spinning. She stabbed a finger in the general direction of the impassive piece of furniture. "Shut. Up."

* * *

They road through the market, wheels rattling and sending up dismal puffs of dust when Horo spotted a peddler who among his wares had an umbrella. Gracefully, she hopped free of the wagon, liberating Lawrence's purse as she did so in one smooth motion and bounded over to the started man.

"One umbrella please" she whispered, all domestic shyness and sweetness. It was a struggle to keep her features arranged in a placid smile however, when Lawrence followed her after stalling his horse, radiating fury. Lots of fury apparently, enough to make that perfected fake smile of his wobble dangerously off kilter.

"My wife is such a worrywort" Lawrence explained swiftly, his fingers digging painfully into Horo's thin shoulder. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck and on her tail and ears rise as he continued. "Please excuse her... exentricities."

"It's best to be careful" Horo replied sweetly, a beautific smile radiating off her face as she calmly imagined swatting him like an overzelous pup.

The salesman smiled indulgently at the pair, and Horo bit back a growl. "It's always good to be careful. In fact, why don't you just take the umbrella for free. I'm happy to dissuade the fears of a young lady in need and I certainly won't need it." He gestured towards the sky, clear and perfect. "Good day."

"And to you," they both chimed back in unison. With the peddler's attention no longer on them Lawrence's fake grin collapsed into a scowl and he forcibly steered both Horo and her umbrella toward the cart, muttering obsentities under his breath. She wriggled free of his grasping hand and returned to her original perch, a smug expression apparent on her visible features. "There, darling, what harm was there in that?"

He snorted in responce, and taking it as the most gratious responce she was going to recieve, she smiled in return, being sure to secure her prize beneath her feet.

* * *

"Dammit" Lawrence mumbled, overturning his hat again as the brim threatend to collapse under the ammount of water it cradled. "Dammit all to hell."

The sky was pitch black with rumbling clouds as the rain fell in steady sheets. "Are you sure you don't want to share my umbrella?" Horo called in a singsong voice, half turning to watch him finnish lashing a tarp over the wares.

He turned glared up at her. "Do you have to be so pleased with yourself."

"It's in my nature," she offered, examining a fingernail and trying not to look especially smug (and failing miserably.) She glanced back at him, tail wagging goodnaturedly, and felt her chest tighten a little. He looked so damn downtrodden. Wasn't she allowed to enjoy her win a little? With a pained sigh and an apology to her new calf boots she jumped down into the mud and wriggled over to him. He glanced at her but before he could say anything she adjusted the umbrella so it covered them both. "There we go," she murmured, turning to face him, repent and willing to please. "How do I help?"


End file.
